Precautions To The Fall
by MakeMeCrazier
Summary: Originally on Tumblr - Daltonverse! Jogan. Smut warning. "I don't want to make this thing sad, okay? Because it's not. We're just not like that."


This feels like one of those 'too little, too late' things. But welp, at least I finished? Also, smut warning.

_Jogan AU in which Logan is 19 and works at a bar on his temporary leave from the Coast Guard, and Julian just follows Derek along to a goddamn bar in the middle of nowhere._

_Word Count:_ 5,214

* * *

**Precautions To The Fall**

An opportunity to escape. That's what Derek was proposing to Julian, practically letting the premonition and trouble fall into the heartthrob's lap.

"Derek," The actor laughs at the absurdity, his career hanging on threads of public and obligatory smiles and occasional broadcast interviews with simply paraphrased questions, all asking about the same thing — Something Damaged and his recent undisclosed sexuality.

_Yes,_ he was bisexual.

_No,_ he did not have a boyfriend or girlfriend.

And lastly, _no_, no one forced him to come out.

Changing pronouns and rearranging the questions didn't change the curiosity itself.

"I can't go out there," He speaks in a tone that should surely suggest the obviousness in the risk of teenagers and normalcy, which he considered himself to be disowned from ever since his first child production.

"You mean, out there in the read world?" Derek asks, his gaze set on some teen running around beyond the window. "Yes, you can! Come on! Aren't you tired of Dalton hallways?"

"No," Julian replies automatically, he himself slightly astonished by his admission. "You are, though," he comments, smiling sadly to his one and only best friend in this location, this building with a system of rules and regulations that was the closest to normal Julian had ever been.

"I'm sick of it," Derek admits, the same smile on his face, running his hands through his hair and wishing he could see beyond private school gates.

Julian sighs, his breathing mixes in with stuffy room of cologne and male sweat, and even though he can sense night always dawning on him, he nods to Derek, thinking it wouldn't be so bad for a change in the air.

"Thank god this school isn't Catholic."

* * *

They wind up going to a "club" that was recommended through a series of friends and existed far off the town of Westerville, Ohio. The actor is wary, to put it bluntly. It was bad enough that Derek had gotten him to agree on sneaking out, but the sign of the tacky wooden floors and the occasional male bikers on the side of the road didn't reassure him in the slightest when they had pulled up.

The star scoffs to himself when Derek grins at the saloon that had unmistakably been clipped from Sweet Home Alabama, and probably contained Bonnie and Clyde hiding away and chewing on peanuts.

His best friend doesn't show a hint of disappointment, which makes Julian believe that the look on the jock's face that resembles refreshment comes from the desperate need of being away from a school of boys in uniforms. So altogether, he doesn't mention the idea of leaving.

He does, however, self-consciously lower his head and whisper harshly to Derek, "Newsflash, dumbass, this isn't exactly a club."

Derek shrugs offhandedly, his eyes already focused on a girl of at least twenty-something years old on the other side of the bar, ignoring Julian's obvious discomfort. "So what? We'll just get a few drinks and be out of here."

At this, Julian complies, his head searching for the apparent bar, eyes landing on a young man, recognizable from somewhere, handing out drinks behind the bar. The concept was slightly bizarre to the famous adolescent considering it was usually the other way around. The man is blond, but the first trait that Julian really sees is the unusual composure of such stiff shoulders.

His eyes never leave the mysterious young man, but his voice does speak up to his friend in a light and airy manner, "As long as you're buying."

"Can I get you something?" The blond asks, suspicious of the new faces in the small town's bar. Julian stares at the tacky wooden countertop for a moment, unable to contain the quirk in his lips when a fresh basket of peanuts appears in front of other drunken men around him. He looks up to the bartender, and becomes startled for a moment at the bright and expectant grass green eyes.

"Two tequilas," Derek orders beside him, which was helpful, considering Julian couldn't exactly place his finger on who the young man was. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way that the green eyes were practically admonishing them silently. Julian didn't know why it mattered so much. He didn't care about what some likely high school drop-out thought of him.

"You guys look my age," The blond, apparently not a bartender but just a server, comments with amusement and smirks. He raises his eyebrows at them both, waiting for an explanation.

"Which would be what?" Julian blurts, earning a calculating look from both Derek and the stranger.

"…Nineteen, meaning the drinking age is still twenty-one, unfortunately," He says, chuckling, but still disappointed himself. His smile fades and he locks his gaze on Julian for a brief second, who hadn't been doing too well on being subtle in his method of staring.

"And are you going to call the government or something?" Derek tries to retort with wit, but even Julian snorts to himself, earning a glare from his best friend hanging in the dry.

"Technically, I could call the Senator of New York, but we're not exactly on good speaking terms," Logan replies, incredibly amused at the comment that seemed to refer to some untold joke.

Julian's mind lights up. Some interview ago, _The View_, he thinks, there had been a segment on politics before he went on. It contained few comments on a Senator's young son that had chosen to join the army.

"Logan Wright," Julian voices aloud, his eyes locked firmly on the green-eyed adult. "The Senator's son. I knew I recognized you."

"And hello, Julian Larson," He replies with austerity, moving away to a different section of the bar before returning with two shot glasses of tequila to the actor and his friend. "Blackmail," Logan says, tilting his head to the right in consideration. "Not exactly honorable, but impressive all the while."

Julian's eyes flicker to the opening of Logan's white dress down shirt at the sound of the blond's dog tags clicking against the metal buttons.

"I wasn't —" Julian starts, eyes widening at the assumed offense.

"Shut up, Julian, it gets us free drinks," Derek says, grinning and swigging down the alcohol in a few matter of seconds.

Julian's mouth hangs open, stunned at the aspect of not only his best friend ignoring the fact that his identity was now known, but also at the presumption that an outspoken acknowledgement was to be considered as blackmail for alcohol. Julian wouldn't stoop that low.

He speaks slowly, "I don't think _I_, of all people, would threaten to expose someone based on their locations. But why?" Julian questions the nineteen year old. "Don't tell me the Senator has no idea where you are."

Logan leans forward towards Julian with a misleading smile and with disarming euphemisms written all over him. The actor swallows, suddenly becoming aware of the mild scent of truth in the air, mixed in with freshly cut grass.

"Some of us," Logan pauses, talking inconsistently, his pace making the brunet narrow his eyes confusedly. "Have to earn out money, even if the… _location_," he refers to the bar, "isn't suitable to government officials' standards. In fact, the more improper, the better."

"Sounds like distaste for boring political speeches."

For the first time that night, Logan grins easily, like the smile was water pulling back into an ocean — simple, but so unexplained. Julian catches his breath at the closeness and the way the forest green eyes burned into him, the realization that he was poisoned by a stranger seemed to fuel his blood.

"Do easy my curiosity," Logan jokes, "Are they any better than endless awards show speeches?"

"Touché," Julian ducks his head down to his lap, his cheeks flushing slightly as he smiles. He pulls out his phone to look at the time, and thanked the heavens that it served as a distraction from Logan's piercing green eyes.

"Another drink?" Logan nods to the apparently empty shot glass in front of him.

_Huh, when did that happen,_ Julian thinks, also reminded of his best friend at the mention, who he had lost between jokes of notorious reputations and irises of beer bottle green. His head turns to find Derek unsurprisingly flirting with the girl he had first laid eyes on when they walked in.

"No, actually," Julian finally answers to the blond. "I'll probably end up as the designated driver."

"If you're lucky, she might take him home for you," Logan comments, but turns away to serve other customers waiting, leaving Julian with an untold reply and a glint in his cognac eyes that had never been there before.

* * *

"I hear you're in the army," Julian says slowly, a pause lingering between each word, hesitant of his revealings. He's not completely drunk, just rather tipsy, and he thinks it's nice, the way that things are a little fuzzy but completely tangible. He decided that when Derek whispered excitedly to him about her_waterbed_ and _tattoos_, that he didn't quite need to be concerned about getting the playboy back to Dalton.

"Coast Guard, actually," Logan corrects. Julian smiles at the wandering stare Logan gives him as he entertains himself with the half-empty shot glass, pushing it to limits of tipping over, and then saving it before it could have a chance to spill.

They've been going in circles for the entity of the night. Logan always presuming that the brunet is too intoxicated to detect, but Julian doesn't say anything by it, instead, settling in to the analyzing gazes of a green-eyed soldier. The distinguishable attraction between the two was deciphered from the way that Logan returned automatically to the actor after serving each of his customers.

"Guess the tabloids screwed that one up."

"Maybe," Julian mumbles thoughtfully, lifting the glass to his lips, finally tipping the remaining contents of the alcohol into his mouth, the taste scalding through his throat and body, the slow burn that always felt welcoming on occasions.

A silence passes over them, leaving only the sound of the scores of a game being spoken from television, country music, and laughter between the aged and hard-working who were all just looking for one night to themselves.

"But what's the difference?" Julian questions, finding himself throwing the very same tacky peanuts he mentioned earlier into his mouth. "One fights in a desert, the other on water?"

"One's a lot safer," Logan mumbles introspectively, holding his meaningful gaze with an actor who refused to dance, but played a game so well.

Julian stops chewing for brief moment, his eyes meeting Logan's like it had a countless number of times that night, but this gaze was different and suddenly the heat in his body is too much, and the look is too serious, and so naturally, his only solution is to duck his head and smirk, like nothing had any meaning to him.

He wants to pretend that Logan wasn't offering, that the navy boy should just give up, but the thing is, the blond wasn't exactly the only one staring, and it wasn't the first time that incandescent lighting felt hotter than usual, but Julian really shouldn't be thinking these things. He doesn't even know the guy, and maybe he could get laid for one night but it didn't matter.

"What are you thinking?" Logan asks, tilting his head curiously when he noticed the paucity in speech from the boy.

The actor clutches his head with uncomfortable, trembling fingers, aching to whimper at the scorching heat of the lamps overhead the bar as well as the throbbing head he gained from all of the liquor decisions catching up to him.

"That I shouldn't be thinking this hard when alcohol is in my system," Julian mutters genuinely with jocosity in his mind.

Logan's mouth turns up with a discreet smile, then finally in an ambiguous manner, he concluded, enabling the teen to another shot glass and says, "Then don't."

The brown-eyed boy looks down at the shot glass, calculating the crystal that would determine the fate of the night. A loud, boisterous laugh erupts from a group at a table near the bar.

"I do have to get back to the boarding school," Julian muses.

"So go. But you're already drunk, and sorry, can't give your keys back."

"I have no idea where Derek is."

"So find him. Though I'm sure he's quite happy where he's at."

"I really want to spend the night with you," The brunet confides, accidentally confessing to a thought he tried not to think about. He meets Logan's eyes when he says it, showing the honesty behind the words. He doesn't show that he's fidgety about the upcoming rejection, only continues to remain impassive after the blunt statement.

He know he has Logan stumped because of the way the blond keels forward in shock and doesn't supply him with an immediate response like beforehand.

"You're surprised," Julian simpers.

"No," But the words are dragged on as Logan beams and positions his elbows on the countertop, in close proximity to the confident superstar. "I think… that might be the best idea you've had all night."

Julian's fingers tremor in his lap, beyond Logan's sight. The lighting in this bar truly bothered him more than any other place he's been to. He'll mention it to Logan later.

He places his hand on the back of his neck, citizens of the blue collar class yell out, arms rising in anger. A football game causes the strangest reactions, Julian has always thought. Looking away from the group of men, he fists his hair, laughing nervously when he looks back at Logan.

"Um, what time do you get off work?"

"I can leave anytime," Logan remarks nonchalantly, furrowing his eyebrows at the inquiry, deeming it odd for the actor to be so patient.

Julian stands up as the thought crosses his mind that Logan could have departed by now but stayed behind. The small gesture makes him smirk, but as soon as a mysterious shiver washes over him, the confident smile vanishes. The shot glass, a crystal-clear decision in his hands, the would-be stars of the night, is left forgotten on the sordid countertop.

Strange.

* * *

A Jeep darker than the night pulls into a full apartment complex parking lot, lit only by the crackling lamp light next to the garbage bin. Julian rubs at his eyes with the tips of his right middle and forefinger, blinking in patterns as the lighting flits across the soft black pavement.

Logan hops out of the car effortlessly, walking to the passenger side and waiting for the actor to climb out. Julian takes his time, imbibing the vacant parking lot and dirt splattered car. If it weren't for that segment on politics, Julian could be with a murderer for all he knew. A very, very intriguing attractive murderer.

The brunet tries his best to hold on to his composure, mind and feet fumbling as he wants to impress the navy boy. But then Logan chuckles as he mistakenly stumbles and the sound is so beautiful, he wouldn't mind falling to the world's feet.

"Where exactly are we?" He breathlessly wonders.

Logan walks up a flight of stairs, the brunet trailing behind him. He arrives at the door and smirks as he twists his key in. "I haven't given you that much alcohol, right?"

Julian pays attention enough to notice the engraved numbers, 218. He focuses on the peeling blue paint on the door and grumbles, "I mistakenly trusted Derek to take me somewhere, without questions." The mention of his best friend sends his blood into a red hot rage. The goddamn prick is the one who wanted to go out tonight, and instead, Julian is the one ruined, absolutely torn by a bewitching stranger.

"We're in Lincoln Village, Ohio," Logan informs, indicating for Julian to go in first.

"Gosh darn, and here I was thinking we was in Paris," The actor fakes with an accent, something he hadn't done since his training, but it was worth the slight smile that arose on the blond's face.

"I'd offer you a drink, but…"

Julian rolls his eyes, "I'm already there, I know, I know."

In the quiet, Julian seeks out the inside of the apartment and instinctively notes the rarity of sentimental belongings. All he can see that would mean anything is the framed photo of Senator Wright standing alongside a young, blonde woman, who seemed kind in her eyes.

Logan returns with a glass of water, suddenly unsure of his undeniable simplicity.

"Um," He begins with uncertainty, watching the brunet with whiskey eyes stare right back.

"Your room?" Julian offers, and he bites his tongue, keeping any caustic remarks to himself about how impatient he is.

"Yeah, yeah," Logan shakes his head to himself and leads the actor, unaware of how the shorter boy is disappointed to find that no pictures hung in the cramped hallway.

They come to a complete stop as Julian gazes beyond the window in the bedroom. There is no view but the same dimmer from the lamplight and the corner of his eye gives him a lookout of only a mattress with white sheets on the floor.

"How," Julian begins turning around from the night to see dark shadows flutter across the blond's stoic face. "…does someone so simple, confuse the hell out of me?"

The same impassive features transform to a witty and bitter smile. "I'm on the move a lot," Logan explains.

"You mean you have nothing to come back to."

No reply comes and Julian begins to think he's said too much, that he's teetered on edges with smart comments and notorious smiles but he knows that another chill washed over him. Another wave of flooding, cold emotion, drowning him to the brink of a different edge, a different circumstance than before. Maybe he should apologize, say he doesn't even know what he's doing here in the first place.

"Well then," The blond shatters the silence into a million different outcomes, each floating in space, out-ruling fate's choices. "Do you want it to be you?"

He was not expecting that. Such surprises. God, what a night.

He grins, soft and tentative because no script was laid out for him, no repetitive reporter questions, no continuous trivial conversations. _Maybe_ then, talking wasn't his red carpet suit, but his truth.

"I might."

They were empty bodies now, souls flying about in the room. Julian doesn't stride, confidence his friend — no, he takes hesitant steps, ones that the blond meets in return, the only thing fueling them.

The actor tilts his head upwards when his body reaches Logan, and it's the simplest thing he's ever known when the blond's hand combs through his hair, his gentle grip pulling Julian's head towards him, their mouths meeting open and hot. All he can feel is the battling sensation as his tongue meets Logan's, lips bruising, air ceasing even as they try to defy it. The kiss ends sweetly with a breath of oxygen and a soft peck on the lips. Logan even gives him an airy laugh again.

Needless to say, Julian's breath is knocked out of him and trembles all over again, finally falling over the edge.

* * *

"You didn't actually—?" Logan stops in the middle of the sentence, suddenly throwing his head back as his body shakes with laughter. He has never felt so carefree. He has never really felt anything.

Clothes are still on. A factor that silently amazes the both of them. They had rolled around, kissing and eager, moments where they were focused and trying but then either one of the two would say something, and then talking became incessant.

"The worst thing," Julian grins, continuing with his story, "is that Emma Stone's gown not only tore when I stepped on it, but it ripped all the way to her ass. I was so embarrassed and I can't believe you are laughing at me _this _much." The actor shakes his head in conclusion, but smiles adoringly.

"You are by far the best celebrity I've ever met," Logan assures with a trace of amusement at the tip of his words. He leans his head against the backboard, focusing on his hands and furrowing his eyebrows.

It's as if Julian reads his mind when he asks, "Tell me about Coast Guard?"

Logan lifts his eyes to meet the actor's open and vulnerable expression. He can't express the way he wants to take back the groundbreaking question he asked earlier. He likes that no one has to wait for him, even though he knows the brunet wouldn't sit around and pine. Finally, he nods, because maybe in informing the younger boy he could also warn him. Logan knows he's not good for him.

"I'm an Airman Apprentice, which usually need two years of experience but I got promoted a little early. You know Battleship? The game?" Logan stops staring at his twiddling fingers as he talks, instead reaching for the brunet's hand, who clasps tightly, afraid to let go.

"I think so. You help the planes go off?" Julian guesses.

"Not yet. I'm only in training right now, so I learn aviation skills and then get appointed to a squadron. I'll have to get recommended for on-the-job training," Logan explains, as he feels Julian stare into him. He smiles confusedly, "What?"

"You're…" The brunet tries to speak, words unformed and stuttering. Finally, a shaky breath escapes his lips as he raises his arm to reach Logan's face, barely touching him as he leans in to press his lips softly to his. Julian moves as gently as he can, the blond's green eyes focusing on his as the actor straddles the stranger. He cradles his hands on Logan's cheeks, towering above and kissing him frantically, already knowing that time was slipping away.

The airman hums in agreement to the motions, gliding his hands along Julian's lower back, carefully gripping the hem of the cotton black t-shirt. The tips of his fingers no longer shake as he grips to the clothing tightly, rising it above the superstar's torso, watching the muscles flex in front of him as he does so.

Logan buys his time, scanning the body on top of him with unmeasured lust. He pushes himself up with his elbows slowly, eyes locked with brown again as he lays Julian underneath him, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the brunet's chest and trailing lower and lower until he reaches the belt. Stopping, he rises off Julian, stretching upward and unbuttons his white work shirt to shrug it off his shoulders. A gasping breath escapes when the actor's hands graze his body firmly, like they had been there before, playing the right cards.

The blond sighs to himself as his thoughts go off in the deep end. He grabs the skimming hands away from his body for a second to say something. "This night…" He starts sternly, licking his lips out of habit, "Actually, you," he corrects, "Are important, meaningful, but I don't want to make this thing sad, okay? Because it's not. We're just not like that."

Julian can tell the older boy was being serious, especially since he had said he was on the move and the actor made the bitter comment about coming back . Logan wanted no promises and no worrying or waiting and the actor understood. Time wouldn't always be in their favor, so he grins brightly, trying his best to ease the mood, "You got it, soldier."

If it hadn't been for the small of flicker of understanding in the cognac eyes, Logan would've tried to back off with the way Julian automatically resumes touching him, picking right where they left off. The hands are soft except for where the calluses contracted with rough, breaking skin and Logan felt both sensations run all over him, his eyes shutting tightly, only black behind his eyelids.

Logan continues to compensate by kissing the writhing brunet's toned chest, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down to the actor's knees, his heart beating in and out of his chest with adrenaline and anticipation. The room seems as if it was resized to only fit the two of them, especially with the way Julian could feel every single pulse and coalescent exhale above him. The soldier briefly takes his own slacks off with skilled hands that no longer remained steady. He fumbles, but Julian helps, sliding his boxers away in one fluid motion, and mollifies Logan's worries by sending him a reassuring grin when he pulls down the older boy's underwear to reveal his aching hard-on.

The motions are slow between them and Logan is secretly appreciative. Incandescent lights shine across the face of the damaged celebrity in front of him as his hand reaches upwards, fingers brushing the minuscule beads of sweat just before his hairline. Logan doesn't know if he's ever seen someone so stunning and radiant.

Julian slithers back on top of him with his throbbing erection grazing against the bare skin of the blond boy's abs. The touch makes him moan, eyelids falling shut until his body shivers and he reminds himself that all of this is real.

At the groan of pleasure, Logan loses his patience, no longer needing the night to be dreamy. He wanted the superstar and he wanted him now. He twists, rolling over with his palm guiding the actor onto his back below him. His mouth lands on Julian's, warm breath mixing with the harsh fusion of tongues.

Hands gliding, he kisses the actor's neck, arising several gasps as he grabs the shaft of Julian's cock. The two of them stop for the smallest second as the brunet attempts to catch his breath. Resuming with his movements, Logan's thumb presses gently against the vein directly under the head of the thrashing boy's erection.

But if there's one thing to pass through his head at that moment, Logan doesn't forget that they're still strangers.

"What do you want?" The blond whispers, holding a tender kiss to Julian's earlobe.

"Whatever you can give me," The brunet replies softly through gasps, a chill running down his spine as Logan's hot breath passes by his ear.

The response makes Logan sigh hesitantly for a swift second before catching his lips with Julian's sweetly, agreeing with a simple, "Okay."

Nails scrape carefully against the back of the brunet's thigh, moving to cup the curve of the enticing boy's ass.

"You're teasing," Julian comments, his eyes closed but a hint of a smile breaking through his expression.

The actor can't see but he's positive that Logan is smirking smugly when he says, "Just a little bit."

The playful smile ceases to exist when the blond prods the tip of his finger into Julian's sensitive hole, pushing it in further, and he loves the way he encircles the digit, how he can feel every millimeter of the skin . It takes a second for the actor to register that holy _shit_, Logan was suddenly slipping in a second finger and thank god because Julian actually hadn't gotten laid for three months, ever since he came out, which he finds _completely_ ironic since he became available to _both _genders.

And his mind goes out of focus because long digits slide in and out of his asshole at a quickened pace, scissoring all at the same time. Sensations overwhelm the brunet and he tries to keep his eyes open, he really does, but soon enough his eyes snap shut when Logan curls his finger and hits his prostate, causing his voice to send a wavering warning when he moans the blond's name.

Logan doesn't register the caveat at first, too lost in the noises escaping the actor, admiring the sounds and secretly hoping it wouldn't be the only night he'd hear them. His name is called out a second time, snapping him back into reality as he slips his fingers out of Julian with ease. He shoos the possibility of a second night away and makes note to take full advantage of what he has for the time being.

When the digits leave the inside him, Julian immediately regrets the caution he gave out, already frowning at the lack of fullness.

But then, Logan shifts back on him, already with a condom on, and for a fleeting moment, Julian releases a pleasant sigh, his arms silently making their way around the older boy's torso, contentment running through him. The actor spreads his knees apart further, wanting Logan's body as close as possible.

The blond shifts closer anyways, his cock breaching the entrance of Julian's asshole, making the younger boy actually whimper with want and eagerness. Logan takes his time and slides in like it's important, something clutching, surrounding him in the most intimate way and it occurs to him that it's Julian, his cock snug in place within the boy.

He makes the most ungraceful noises, and Logan doesn't know how to handle his own mind cause he can't decide if he should look at the actor's velvet mouth — parted and panting, or his eyes — shut tightly in unbearable pleasure. He finally settles on Julian's cold and sweaty chest, where lights from a passing car coruscate upon, so _surreal_. Surreal enough that he pushes and pulls roughly and Julian whimpers and moans and cries and it's all so much for both of them. Logan can't tell if the vivid lights sprawled on the brunet's chest are imaginary at this point, and Julian can't tell if he's hearing his own grunts and moans or if they're Logan's.

Julian's body shakes when the blond rolls his hips, and he's done for, eyes sealing shut painfully as he parts his lips wide and feels like screaming but it's silent. He comes harder than he can ever remember, shooting white spurts all over himself and Logan's stomach. The blond leans into Julian's sticky body anyways and releases a small whimper in the crook of the actor's neck, coming into the condom, but Julian still feels it, even slightly. He lets go of the tension then, throwing his head back when Logan pulls out, and releasing an overwhelmed sigh.

He doesn't make a move to clean them up, but Logan does roll over, no arms wrapping around him, just a shared bed, and the brunet couldn't have asked for anything better.

"Do you think we'll ever —", Julian mumbled inarticulately, cutting the preposition of seeing each other so that even the blond sends him a befuddled look.

"Never mind," The actor shakes his head, a slight smile brewing at the corner of his mouth, causing Logan to frown. "Let's just sleep, okay?"

The blond pulls the blanket over both of them carelessly, kissing Julian's shoulder before throwing his arm loosely over the other's stomach, enough for comfort. He's flipped over by now, stomach against the bed, but his face near Julian's shoulder and mumbles, "Maybe. Like I said, one's a lot safer."

"_You're_ not safe, though," Julian amends, looking at the chipped ceiling above him, smiling softly when Logan reveals a grin at that.

"Not at all."

Well, it's a good enough promise as far as Julian can tell.


End file.
